


The Advantage

by FictionalNutter



Series: Tumblr Prompts [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Dean Winchester, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apocalypse, Comforting Lucifer, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Gen, Helpful Lucifer, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Season/Series 05, Upset Sam, Voicemail, voicemail fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 13:45:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4103137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionalNutter/pseuds/FictionalNutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted to Tumblr, based on a prompt from Anonymous requesting Samifer emotional hurt/comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Advantage

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always accepting prompts here, on FF, and on my [Tumblr](http://www.supernaturallyimagined.tumblr.com).

Sam didn't remember falling asleep, but he was pacing in a different motel room than the one he and Dean had checked into, so at some point he must have passed out on the too-small bed. He kicked at the wall as he turned, his frustration still as potent as it had been while he was awake.

"What's wrong?" Lucifer asked from behind him.

Sam didn't have a name for the simultaneous relief and tension Lucifer's appearance always brought out in him. It was a reaction only the devil provoked, and Sam wasn't sure what it really meant. He turned with a sigh and registered Lucifer's open arms. He had to think about it still, but only for a second before melting into the embrace.

"Has something happened?" Lucifer asked calmly, guiding the two of them to one of the beds and sitting down, arranging them so Sam was beside him and one of the archangel's arms was still encircling the hunter.

Sam huffed a laugh. "No, not exactly."

"Sam," Lucifer warned, his tone indicating he wasn't planning to drag the story out of his vessel in pieces.

"I told Dean," Sam explained, deciding to forego any attempts at secrecy. "About the dreams, and our deal."

Lucifer made a face. "It's not a  _deal_ ," he countered, making it sound like a dirty word.

Sam rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. Anyway, he doesn't believe me. He thinks I'm high, or being manipulated again, or something. I don't even know." Sam sighed heavily and stared at the ground, depression sinking in.

Lucifer hummed to himself and rubbed his hand up and down Sam's arm in a comforting gesture. "I wish I could say I was surprised," he commented lightly.

"I'm not either," Sam admitted. "I knew he wouldn't just accept it. Maybe I should have told him earlier."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "When? After our first conversation, when you were so terrified of my presence that you shot yourself? Or perhaps after your friends were regrettably murdered in a foolish attempt to kill me with the Colt?"

Sam flinched visibly and shook his head. "I was thinking more like after you got rid of the Horsemen just because I asked."

Lucifer's expression softened. "I needed you to understand. That seemed like a simple way to accomplish my goal."

"It worked," Sam acknowledged, offering a light smile.

"My point stands, Sam," Lucifer pointed out. "Dean would not have been any more receptive to your news whether you had told him when we first met, when I sent away the Horsemen, or today."

"Especially not after Ellen and Jo," Sam muttered, a heartbreaking expression flitting across his face for a moment.

"That was  _not_ your fault, Sam," Lucifer said sternly, his tone implying it was not the first time he'd said such a thing.

Sam smiled at Lucifer, but it was clear he didn't agree. "I think you're the only one that believes that," he replied. "It doesn't matter anyway. You may not want to kill us all, but the apocalypse isn't over."

"We have an advantage, Sam, and Dean will come to see that," Lucifer said firmly.

"What advantage?" Sam asked, brow furrowed.

Lucifer smiled sadly, resting his forehead against Sam's shoulder. "My brother sees it as his solemn duty to kill me. He wants to finish his job, as it were. Your brother does not want you dead. That makes all the difference in the world."

Sam's eyes filled with moisture and he had to blink a few times, shaking his head. "I don't know that I believe that," he whispered, sounding ashamed.

"What causes you to doubt?" Lucifer asked gently, reaching up to run his hand through Sam's hair, smiling when the hunter leaned into the comforting touch.

"When...when I went to the convent to kill Lilith..." Sam trailed off, not wanting to repeat the memory.

Lucifer didn't bother to wait, and simply read Sam's mind. "Oh, Sam..." Lucifer breathed. "No wonder you feel such doubt."

Sam couldn't bring himself to be irritated by the mind reading. It wasn't that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things. "That's why I did it," he admitted. "I thought I would die and I could have accomplished something good with my life. It didn't matter if I was a monster because I would have gone out doing the right thing, but that's not how it happened."

Lucifer pulled Sam into a hug, rocking the young hunter back and forth gently. "You'll forgive me for not regretting that night in the convent," he murmured. "As regards the phone call, however, I don't believe that was your brother speaking. My understanding was that he was being held by Zachariah at the time. Believe me, I'd like nothing better than to eviscerate that particular brother of mine. In any case, Zachariah would only have made it possible for Dean to contact you if it could be used to further his own goals. It is also possible that Ruby could have altered your perceptions on her end, but I think Zachariah's interference is more plausible."

Sam took a moment to digest that, not sure how to respond. "How sure are you?" he finally asked, glancing at Lucifer's face for reassurance.

"I do not know Dean well," Lucifer admitted, "but I have seen clear evidence of your bond, and I know Zachariah. I am certain. I encourage you to ask him yourself."

Sam nodded slowly, the emotion draining away as he began to analyze the situation. "If you're right, and we get that sorted out, maybe then he'll be willing to listen to you."

"How do you figure?" Lucifer asked, amused.

"That was a huge barrier between us. If we tear it down, and I tell him you're the one that defended him, so to speak, maybe he'll give you a chance." Sam looked wary and hopeful at the same time.

Lucifer smiled at the sudden hope in Sam's expression. "For all our sakes, I hope you are right, Sam."

* * *

 

When Sam awoke, it was to the fading memory of Lucifer's comforting embrace. The nights when the archangel visited him had become his most peaceful, and he was grateful for the rest. Rolling over and snatching his cell phone off the end table, Sam cued up his voicemail and held it to his ear. Skipping a few messages, he settled on the one in question and played it back. It was exactly the same as every other time he'd listened to it, but the bite of the words was now gone. He knew with a sudden assurance that the words had never left his brother's mouth.

"What's that face for?" Dean grunted, rolling over in bed and glaring at the window that was allowing sunlight into the room.

Sam started, having not realized his brother was awake yet. "Dean. We need to talk."

"I literally am not even out of bed yet," Dean complained. "This can't wait a minute?"

"No, it's important," Sam insisted.

Dean turned back over and glared at his brother. "If this is about your new best buddy the devil, I don't want to hear about it."

Sam scowled, but smoothed his expression over and refocused. "We'll get back to that. This is more important right now."

Dean sighed heavily and sat up, scratching at his hair. "All right, what?"

Sam adjusted the phone to speaker and replayed the voicemail, reveling in his ability to hear the words without cringing or flinching away from them as he always had before.

Dean, on the other hand, had gone white as a sheet and was staring in unabashed horror at his little brother. When the tone indicated the voicemail was over, he immediately demanded, "What the  _hell_ was that?!"

"You never called me and left this message?" Sam asked. He could tell from Dean's face, but he had to ask.

" _NO_! Where did that crap even come from?" Dean was out of bed and tearing the phone out of Sam's hand, pulling up the message again and holding the phone to his ear, the other hand clutching at his scalp.

Sam relaxed, and held out his hand for his phone. "I got that the night of the convent," he explained, taking the phone back from Dean and immediately deleting the message. He didn't need it anymore. "I thought it was you."

"I swear, Sam--"

"No, Dean, I know it wasn't you. Or, I know  _now_. I wish I'd known then." Sam wondered suddenly what percentage of that statement was true. If he hadn't heard the message, Lucifer might not have been freed, something Sam knew now he would regret, but Sam would never have believed Dean could want him dead. It was a complicated scenario, to be sure.

Dean still looked vaguely horrified, but he was calming down a little. "God, Sam, I called you that night, but I freaking apologized for acting like Dad, I swear. How many times have you--"

"It doesn't matter," Sam said firmly. "I know it wasn't you now, and that's all I need."

Dean narrowed his eyes suddenly, the emotion starting to fade into curiosity. "How did you suddenly come to this realization?" He asked warily.

"You really want to know?" Sam asked, knowing Dean would interpret that was whether or not he was willing to hear about Lucifer again.

Scowling, Dean nodded tightly. "Yeah. Tell me."

"Lucifer thinks our main advantage over Michael and the apocalypse is that Michael wants him dead, but you don't want me dead." Sam hesitated, then admitted, "I might have been skeptical. When Lucifer found out about the voicemail, he was insistent that Zachariah must have done something. He saw the situation more objectively than I did, and realized you would never have said anything like that."

Dean hesitated before replying. "Not that I don't appreciate the vote of confidence from the devil, but that's not really true. I did call you a monster once, Sam. I said you weren't human, and I don't think I ever apologized for that." Seeing Sam about to argue, he held up a hand and said, "I'm sorry, Sam. I don't think you're a monster, I definitely don't think you're evil, and I'm sure as hell not planning to kill you."

"That's a relief," Sam said mildly. Now that he firmly believed that to be true, the lightness in his heart made the whole situation almost amusing.

Dean clearly wasn't over the bombshell yet, but he took a deep breath before conquering their next big issue. "So. Lucifer, huh?"

"He wants to stop the apocalypse," Sam reiterated what he'd tried to tell Dean the day before. "Will you at least talk to him?" At Dean's hesitant nod, Sam sent a quick prayer out to the archangel.

"Dean," Lucifer greeted the older Winchester from a seated position beside Sam on the bed.

Startling violently, it took Dean a second to recover. "Geez," he muttered. "All right, look, what exactly is supposed to make me believe you want to save the world?"

With an undeniable sincerity Lucifer replied, "I don't wish to hurt Sam."

There was a long pause, then Dean nodded, collapsing back onto his own bed with a huff. "All right. That's a cause I can get behind."


End file.
